Photographs and Letters
by DustyWolf
Summary: A collection of shorts starring some of out favorite characters. May vary from canonical to AU. Updated Randomly.
1. The Moving Pictures

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co are property of J.K Rowling, I'm just babysitting :)**

**A/N: I think that one of the reasons Dudley bullied Harry was because, fear aside, he was jealous of the things Harry could do and experience. **

**The Moving Pictures**

Dudley Dursley froze as the bed beside him creaked, his pudgy arm halfway toward the desk, and his eyes struggled to focus on the slim boy who was mumbling softly.

Harry Potter turned over once more and snored embarrassingly loudly and Dudley breathed a sigh of relief as he slid a drawer open slowly, his eyes flicking to the sleeping boy as he pulled a leather-bound album from the drawer. He backed away from the bed and out the door, sliding down the wall as he opened the album.

He'd first found it a week ago while snooping around in Harry's room while the boy in question was washing his father's car. Dudley had been looking for something to tease Harry about and the album had caught his eye – _a journal? _he thought as he pulled the album from the drawer, glancing out the window to make sure Harry was still scrubbing away at the bird shit on the windscreen, flicking it open, ready to read Harry's most inner-most secrets and instead dropping it with a yell when a photograph _waved _at him.

Once over his shock Dudley picked the album off the floor, realising that this must be one of the things from Harry's world, and began to page through it more slowly, staring down at the moving photographs in wonder; two people dancing at a wedding, four boys in school uniform, laughing at the camera, a little boy flying around on a broom while a pair of legs chased him around.

This was the third night that Dudley had sneaked into his cousin's room to steal the album and, as before, he sat against the wall, paging through the album, pausing for a few moments on each photo. Dudley didn't know why but, as he watched the couples dance, the friends laugh and the babies gurgle, he felt a great sadness. Maybe it was because he was jealous that Harry experienced all these wonderful magical things or maybe it was because Dudley knew who the red-haired woman was, and who the man she danced with was.

Harry's parents. They looked so happy, he found himself thinking, unconsciously smiling as he watched Harry's dad twirl him around, his mother seeming torn between laughing and yelling as the baby soared through the air.

'Dudley?'

Dudley jumped, dropping the album as a mop of dark hair appeared around the door.

'Ha-Harry! Why are you up?! I'm telling dad!'

Harry only looked at his portly cousin for a moment, then the album caught his eye and he smiled, stepping forward to pick it up. Dudley waited for Harry to start yelling the way he had when he'd found Dudley with one of his school books but the yelling never came. Instead Harry sat down beside Dudley and flipped the album open, flicking through the photos until he came to one in which five people – four men and a woman – smiled up at the camera.

'That's my mom, Lily,' Harry whispered, pointing to the woman, 'That's my dad, James and these are Peter, Remus and Sirius, my dad's best friends,' Harry pointed them out as he spoke, smiling down at the five.

'Your mom was really pretty,' Dudley finally managed and Harry chuckled.

'She was, wasn't she?'

'Do you miss them?'

Harry's smile slid off his face and for the first time in his life Dudley wished he hadn't spoken.

'I do, all of them.'

'What were your father's friends like? Have you met them?' Dudley asked carefully and he was pleased to see Harry grin.

'They were mad,' he laughed softly, 'They were a bunch of pranksters at school. Moony – that's Remus – was a prefect but he never told them off, and Peter, they called him Wormtail, was the one that followed them all around like a lost puppy.'

'And this Sirius?'

Harry sighed heavily and something tugged at Dudley's memory.

'He- He was your godfather, wasn't he? The one who... Passed away?'

Harry nodded and Dudley was startled to see a tear slide down his cousin's cheek.

'He was the craziest of them all,' Harry's voice cracked but he smiled weakly at Dudley, 'He could turn into a big black dog and he used to chase the others around.'

Dudley giggled and Harry nodded, smiling.

Harry turned a few more pages in silence, his fingers hovering over the photos and Dudley felt that he was intruding on a private moment, but he was still transfixed by the photos. Harry reached the last photo in the album, one Dudley hadn't seen before, and Harry's smile became brilliant as he stared down at himself standing beside a ginger-haired boy that Dudley vaguely recognised, a pretty brunette girl and a younger girl that had to be the other boy's sister.

'That's Ron and Hermione, and the girl with her arm around me is Ginny,' Harry told him, 'Hermione and Ron are my best friends.'

'And Ginny?'

Dudley realised Harry was blushing and he laughed, 'Is she your _girlfriend_?'

Harry shook his head, 'No! But she will be, one day.'

Dudley laughed again and patted Harry on the shoulder, 'Good luck, she looks like she has a temper and a half.'

'You have no idea!'

The two boys sat beside one another late into the night, paging through the album, Dudley asking questions and Harry answering, no matter how painful the answers were.

When they parted ways to their respective bedrooms they both understood that everything would go back to normal the next day; Dudley teasing and taunting Harry, Harry wondering Little Whinging to avoid Dudley and his gang. But neither boy would forget the one night when they were family for just a little while.

**A/N: So? How was it?**

**If there's anything you'd like me to try, let me know :) **


	2. How They Came to Be

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling is the mommy, I'm just the neighbour who comes over to play.**

**A/N: This is something that came to me on the way to work one morning.**

**How They Came To Be**

Remus sat in the Gryffindor Common Room staring blankly at the book that lay in his lap, surrounded – as usual – by Sirius, James and Peter. It was a week before the next full moon, but that wasn't the only reason that the werewolf was pretending to read a book he'd read a thousand times before; James and the others had pulled him aside at lunch and proudly announced that Remus was now looking at three newly-made, _unregistered _animagi. While Remus appreciated that they had done it to help him, he was furious with them for putting themselves in such danger – if not done correctly, the transformations could be fatal. But Remus loved his friends, even more so now, and despite his fury he couldn't help listening to the smooth drawl that was Sirius, the excited squeak that was Peter and the calm, measured tones that were James. He turned a page, unconsciously picked up on the lull in the trio's conversation. Which is why he looked up from his book when Peter spoke next.

'I think we should have nicknames.'

Sirius snorted derisively, 'We're not kids anymore, Pete.'

'Well, actually...' Peter trailed off as Sirius glared at him.

'I think it's a good idea.'

The three boys jumped, staring at Remus like deer's caught in the headlights. It was uncommon enough for Remus to take part in any conversation that didn't concern books, full moon, or teasing James about his school-boy crush on the fiery Lily Evans, but they all knew that he was annoyed with them.

'Well, I guess it isn't a bad idea...' James bit his lip, deep in thought, 'I want to be "Stud",' he puffed his chest out and looked around at them expectantly. Sirius gave a bark of laughter, Peter snickered and Remus rolled his eyes.

'James, I think Pete meant nicknames pertaining to our, er, –' Remus glanced around to make sure no one was listening in to their conversation, 'forms.'

James deflated, 'Oh... Alright, how about "Stag"?'

'Yeah, because that's not obvious at all,' Sirius drawled.

'Do you have a better idea, _Snuffles_?'

The smirk slid off Sirius' face and his eyes narrowed dangerously, 'I will _not_ be called Snuffles,' he growled.

Remus sighed and the two boys' glares quickly turned guilty.

'How about "Antlers"?' Peter interjected. James opened his mouth but was interrupted by Sirius, who clicked fingers.

'Pete, you're a genius! But, except for "Antlers", how about "Prongs"?'

James paused, looking thoughtful, 'That's actually pretty clever...'

'What about me?' Peter squeaked excitedly.

The boys fell into silence as they considered this.

'How about "Wormtail"?'

Peter's face fell, '_Worm_tail? Why!?' he whined.

'Well, think about it,' Sirius explained, 'What does a rat's tail look like?'

Peter's nose wrinkled as he thought this through. He sighed.

'I guess you're right...'

James grinned and then turned to Sirius, 'Your turn. How about...'

'Fido?' Peter snickered, yelping when a cushion connected with the side of his head.

'Canine?' James suggested but was shot down.

'A bit too obvious,' Remus muttered.

'Pup?'

'Woof?'

Sirius fell back against the couch with a heavy sigh. Twenty minutes later and he didn't have a nickname. Despite his earlier protests Sirius was jealous that Peter and James' nicknames had been so easy to come up with.

'This isn't fair!' he whined.

Remus studied his friend and suddenly it came to him.

'Sirius, your form is a black dog, right?'

Sirius nodded, looking at Remus expectantly.

'Padfoot,' Remus announced, grinning. Sirius wrinkled his nose but let Remus continue.

'Padfoot is a hellhound that's rumoured to haunt the moors in Leeds,' Remus smirked as Sirius caught on and howled with laughter.

'Why, thank you, Moony!'

James and Peter frowned, 'Moony?' they asked together.

'Yeah,' Sirius looked at Remus affectionately, 'Moony.'

Remus smiled, 'Moony it is.'


	3. Storm Behind Her Eyes

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling is the mother, I'm just visiting.**

Storm Behind Her Eyes

'Alright, I want to go to the bookstore, would you mind going into the supermarket so long, Harry?'

Harry smiled at his bushy-haired friend, knowing full well that he could finish their grocery shopping long before she tore herself away from her precious bookshop, and take his time about it at that. They were in Muggle London, close to Grimmauld Place, doing their monthly shopping. This had become a routine and still Hermione asked him whether it was okay for her to go book shopping. Walburga Black would have a heart-attack if she were still alive and discovered all the muggle fiction that nearly rivalled the magical tomes in the Black library.

'Sure, 'Mione, go ahead.'

She beamed at him and hurried away, Harry watching her go for a few moments before turning toward the small supermarket where they were now regulars.

If he'd been paying more attention he'd have seen her before he walked into her.

'Oh! I'm so sorry!' the girl bumbled, stumbling backward, Harry's quick reflexes saving her from landing on her arse. That's when he looked at her.

No.

Please. No.

'Are you alright?'

Her strange accent would have caught his curiousity had he not been staring at her in horror. His breath froze in his throat. His world spun. His mind fought to find details that would make her look less like him, small details that would stem the flood of pain flowing through him.

She's a girl.

Her hair was a shade too light.

Her face was petit, rounded.

Her hair was too long.

Her lips too full.

Her eyes.

God, her _eyes_.

Grey eyes stared at him, widened in confusion as his fingers bit into her arms.

'Hey, are you okay?'

Instead of the fright that anyone else would show at being stared at by a stranger, the girl seemed concerned. Harry shook himself and slowly released her arms.

'Yeah... you just... look like someone I know. Knew,' he corrected, shudders passing through him as he looked into her eyes again.

She smiled gently, taking his arm and leading away from the main bustle and he sank down onto a stone bench. She studied him for a moment.

'Here,' she dug in the knapsack Harry only just noticed, 'I know they say you shouldn't give people in shock anything to drink, but you look like you need it,' she held a can out toward him. It was an energy drink, the kind Hermione constantly warned him away from, but Harry accepted the can without hesitation, mumbling his thanks. He paused, about to pull the tab, looking up at her.

He shook his head, 'I can't...'

She smiled, 'Drink it, I have another.'

So he popped the can open, taking an experimental sip. She laughed as his nose wrinkled at the taste.

'It gets better.'

He nodded, studying the girl as he sipped; she was short, her hair only slightly tamer than Hermione's, she wore a loose t-shirt and jeans that, if the torn legs were any indication, were too long for her. Harry's gaze was drawn back to her eyes, her storm grey eyes.

_Sirius..._

'Where are you from?' he asked and she bit her lip.

'Not around here,' was her answer, 'I'm visiting my aunt.'

Harry took a long sip of his drink, watching as she shifted from foot to foot. She didn't look like a tourist, she had an air of confidence about her and he couldn't see anyone looking for her so he assumed she was alone.

'Harry!' Hermione came running toward them, a bag swinging at her side, looking annoyed.

'Why aren't you doing the groc- Oh...' Hermione finally realised that Harry wasn't entirely alone.

'Hi, I'm...' the girl trailed off, gauging Hermione's reaction to her, because Hermione was now staring at her the way Harry had a few minutes ago. There was a moment's pause then a soft ringing emanated from the girl's pocket. She dug out what Hermione realised was a cellphone and sighed as she read the text on the impossibly small screen.

'I have to go, will you be okay?'

Harry nodded after a moment, unable to think of a way to keep her around, and the girl smiled, waving as she turned and walked away. The pair watched her go in silence then Hermione turned to Harry.

'Harry...'

'I know...'

'She looks like...'

'I know...'

'Her _eyes_...'

Harry looked up at Hermione and her expression softened.

'He's been gone for years, Harry.'

He didn't answer, staring in the direction the girl had gone.

'She could've been Sirius' daughter...'

'Maybe she was...'

**A/N: This is a very random short that came to me randomly. I must admit that the girl is partly based on me, please let me know if that affected the story in any way :)**


	4. Butterbeer Blues

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling is the brilliant mind behind Harry Potter, I'm just borrowing the characters, etc.**

**Butterbeer Blues**

Neville Longbottom stared dejectedly at the empty Butterbeer bottle that stood before him, wondering why life was so unfair.

'Could I get you another si- Oh, hello Neville!'

It took Neville a few moments to recognize the smiling barmaid.

'_Hannah_?'

She beamed, pleased that he had recognised her.

'Oh my! It's been ages! How are you!?'

'I'm well, and yourself?'

'Can't complain, it doesn't do any good,' he murmured, then perked up for her sake, 'So you work here at the Cauldron now?'

Hannah flushed and Neville, thinking she was embarrassed about it, began to stutter an apology, but before he could she corrected him, realising that he had misinterpreted her;

'Well, in a manner, I'm the owner.'

Neville's jaw dropped, 'You _own_ The Leaky Cauldron?' Hannah nodded and Neville whistled.

'That's so cool!'

Hannah flushed, 'After school I had no idea what I wanted to do so when I heard that Tom wanted to retire I used my inheritance to buy the place. I've always liked this place, and after... you know... Well this place felt like home and I didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands.'

On impulse Neville reached forward and gave her hand a soft squeeze. Hannah's parents had been some of the first casualties in the Second Wizarding War and Neville was one of the few that knew how hard their deaths had hit her. She smiled gratefully.

'Can I get you another?' she repeated her earlier question and Neville nodded.

'I like what you did with the place,' Neville complimented her and she blushed beet red, stuttering a 'thanks' as she placed a fresh Butterbeer before him. Hannah had indeed improved the interior of the small inn, without changing it completely, and it still felt homey but the tables had been re-varnished, the chairs reupholstered in earthy colours and the walls had been stripped of the peeling wallpaper that had once adorned them, the bricks cleaned and hung with photographs, news articles (none of Rita Skeeter's though!) and portraits.

'What about you?' Hannah asked, breaking Neville from his thoughts, 'I heard that you're an Auror now.'

'Was,' Neville corrected her with a smile, 'I became tired of fighting so I resigned. I'm starting at Hogwarts in September as the Herbology Professor,' he puffed his chest out proudly and missed the disappointment that flashed across Hannah's face.

'Oh, so you're here to buy all your supplies?'

Neville deflated and sighed, shaking his head.

'Is everything alright?' Hannah asked, concerned.

'I had a bit of an argument with my Gran,' he told her, once again staring into the depths of his bottle.

Hannah bit her lip; she knew Neville well enough to know that he tended to close up if you pushed him but that he always felt better after pouring his heart out.

'Would... Would you like to talk about it?' she asked cautiously, hoping he wouldn't think she was being pushy.

Neville looked up at her and Hannah was a bit taken aback by the light that burned in his dark eyes.

'If you'll agree to join me for lunch?'

Hannah gaped at her old school friend, remembering the shy boy he had once been.

Neville's face fell, 'Nevermind, forget it.' He began to dig in his pockets for money, meaning to pay for his drinks, but Hannah stopped him in his tracks.

'I'd love to go out for lunch with you.'

'What? Really?'

Hannah giggled, 'Of Course! My usual barmaid should be here in a few minutes, we could go then if you'd like?'

Neville couldn't believe that she'd said yes, gaping at her, then slowly a grin curled his lips.

'Sure, that sounds great!'

Hannah turned away, smiling. She'd developed a crush Neville in their sixth year and she'd been hoping he'd ask her out since.

It seemed that some dreams came true after all.


End file.
